


Better Known For The Things She Does On The Mattress

by ozymandias314



Category: Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, You Belong With Me AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:50:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1194123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozymandias314/pseuds/ozymandias314
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taylor has a totally awesome idea about how to get revenge on her boyfriend. For Femmeslash February. You Belong With Me video AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Known For The Things She Does On The Mattress

Alison was the worst.

Absolutely the worst. The short skirts that showed off her long legs, toned by cheerleading and cardio. Her long brown hair, perfectly styled, entirely unlike Taylor’s constant frizz. Her tasteful makeup and fashionable clothing. The way she could walk in high heels, not only without falling, but actually making her butt sway in a way that entranced every man who walked by. Alison had mastered every one of the feminine airs Taylor’s mom despaired of her ever learning: around her, Taylor felt hot and flustered and kind of like a dog someone had put in lipstick.

In fact, Taylor would have argued that Alison was the worst person who had ever lived, except that she’d met Todd. Todd, football player, Alison’s former boyfriend and Taylor’s former best friend, who asked Taylor out (at prom! So romantic!) and then dumped her because he was only dating her to make Alison jealous. After taking her virginity! And it didn’t even feel like dew-moistened petals unfurling at his deft touch, like the romance novels Taylor stole from her mom had said it would. It just hurt.

Taylor was crushed. And if there was one thing Taylor had learned from country music, it was that when a man crushed your heart, it was time to crush his balls in return. After discarding bashing his car’s windows in with a baseball bat (Todd didn’t drive), becoming wildly successful and then letting him know exactly what he’d given up (delayed gratification), and killing him then selling Tennessee ham and strawberry jam (Taylor didn’t know how to cook, also possibly a prostitution reference), Taylor came up with the best idea.

Lesbianism.

"Are you sure he’s going to look through his window?" Alison asked, lying on Taylor’s bed with the casual grace that Taylor loathed.

"Yeah," Taylor said. "We used to talk every night by writing things and showing them to each other. He still looks through it all the time to see if I’ve forgiven him."

"…Don’t you have Facebook?"

"Here, spoon me," Taylor said, lying down next to here. "We need to make it very clear that we are lesbians. Dykes. Queer as folk. Muffmunchers. Sapphists. Women-loving women. We are so lesbian we are the illegitimate child of Melissa Etheridge and the Indigo Girls."

"Seriously," Alison said, "why can’t you just use Facebook?"

Taylor wiggled, adjusting herself until she was in a comfortable position. But there was a limit to how comfortable she could get: Alison’s body was warm and soft and there, Taylor’s skin prickled wherever they touched, and she felt something funny in the middle of her stomach. Be strong, she thought. She only had to kiss a girl a few times, then vengeance would be hers and she would never have to feel Alison and her stupid boobs pressing up against.

Seriously. Alison had an amazing rack, in addition to everything else. Why was Taylor the only one cursed by the boob gods?

"I’m not sure how this is supposed to be revenge," Alison said. "Maybe he’ll just get a boner. I’ve wasted enough of my life giving Todd boners."

"He’ll be humiliated," Taylor said, "that he was such a failure as a man we turned to women."

"I don’t think that’s how lesbianism works."

Taylor wanted to argue, but Alison smelled delicious. It was extremely distracting. She wondered what kind of perfume Alison wore. She wondered if she could put it on her blanket and snuggle it to herself so she could smell it all the time, or if that would be weird. It was hard to make arguments about lesbianism being a great revenge if the girl you were having a fake relationship with insisted on smelling good.

Later, Taylor would place the entire blame for the thing she said next on her perfume-addled state. “Put your hand on my boob.”

"I am not putting my hand on your boob!"

"We could just be straight girls cuddling, girls cuddle with each other all the time—"

"—no, they don’t—"

"—but there is not a straight girl in the world who’ll grope another girl. I want to show that—"

"Yeah, muffmunchers, you said," Alison grumbled, but she put her hand on Taylor’s breast.

Taylor’s dewy petals instantly unfurled.

It was a natural reaction, she thought, half-hysterically. There were lots of very sensitive nerves there. Probably people got turned on when other people groped their breasts all the time. She wasn’t— attracted to Alison, or a lesbian, or anything like that. It would have been very surprising if she hadn’t felt anything when someone touched her breast.

Admittedly, she hadn’t felt like this when Todd touched her there, but he was a jerk, so maybe her body was protecting her from him. As terrible as she was, at least Alison wouldn’t—

"He’s here," Alison said.

Spooning was a bit of an awkward position for makeouts. Alison had to scoot back a bit so Taylor could lie on her back, then get on top of her, then kiss her. Fortunately, this gave Todd a lot of time to look in the window and see what was going on.

Prick.

Alison fully intended to just peck Taylor on the lips, to establish that they were Definitely Lesbians without having to be Definitely Lesbians. But Alison made a little ‘meep’ and grabbed the back of Taylor’s head and arched and suddenly there were tongues involved and then Taylor wasn’t thinking at all. Alison’s lips were soft and warm and, holy shit, actually tasted of cherry chapstick. She kissed the way she did everything else, calmly and gracefully and with skill; none of the slobbering Taylor was used to from guys, none of the tongues poking at one’s tonsils, just kissing that sent heat through every inch of Taylor’s body, from her toes to the tips of her fingers. Taylor smelled like freshly-done laundry and fruity shampoo, and most of all, sharp and warm, of Girl.

Alison pulled away; Taylor moaned in protest. “Close the window,” she whispered in Taylor’s ear.

"But then he won’t see what we’re doing, and then how is he supposed to know that we’re—"

"Trust me," Alison said, "you don’t want him to see what I’m going to do to you."

—

"Wait, you were serious?"

"Yes…?"

"I thought that was your incredibly dumb excuse for getting me into bed! I didn’t think you actually wanted to get revenge on our ex by fueling his sexual fantasies for the next six months!" Alison kissed Taylor’s forehead. "You’re lucky I like dorks."


End file.
